Thanks For Loving Me ('Cause You're Doing it Perfectly)
by Little Artemis
Summary: [Captain Swan] Killian's a renown author of the crime/mystery series 'Zoe Frost', and Emma's the head detective of the NYPD's 11th precinct. When a case mimics the first book in Killian's famous book series their paths cross, thrusting them into each others lives. Possibly for longer than either anticipated. [AU based on ABC's Castle]
1. 1—Made My Mistakes, Tried to Live Right

A tired hand moved through her hair as she moved toward the police tape, already dreading what today would bring. Her father stood waiting patiently for her, and from the look on his face he knew this was going to be gruesome. Why couldn't any murders be normal? Or easy to solve for that matter? Everyone knew the first forty eight hours was the most tense, and she knew this was going to be just like any other case. Keeping her up all night wondering just who took out the poor vic this time.

Just like with Neal…

Taking a deep breath, she tried to push the thoughts away, of how she still didn't know who killed him, or how Henry had grown up not knowing his father. They'd both been excited to know she was pregnant, then she got the call…

Mary-Margaret had thankfully been willing to baby sit as Emma went through law school, a new fire in her to get justice for what had happened to her lost love. It wasn't enough that she didn't know who'd kidnapped her from her parents as a child, who made her go through the foster system until they'd found her again. No, life had taken the man she'd loved from her as well, and she intended to make whoever did it pay.

"Lost in thought again?" His words were soft, she barely heard them, going tense before looking her father's way and giving him a small smile.

"Nothing unusual, you know that."

"I do. Come on, Humbert's waiting for us." He gestured with his head to where the man was standing over the body taking pictures and collecting evidence, Coroner Ruby Lucas crouching by him.

"Looks like I'm the last to arrive." She looked at her father with a raised brow.

"You looked tired last night I—"

She raised a hand, not wanting to hear it as she stepped past, letting out a breath. While Emma appreciated his concern she was well aware this was her job, that she was needed here. It was also a pleasant distraction from other things. "So, what've we got?"

A mess of dark hair looked up when she spoke, smiling up at her. "Swan. Looks like our vic was taken by surprise, likely followed down the alley and struck from behind. What gets me is that she was definitely posed to look like this, and these aren't her clothes. Roommate said that she was last seen in something else—"

"Which I am going to leave it to you guys to scope the area for, by the way." Ruby butted in, moving over to bump shoulders with Emma. "I got what I can off her, I'll know more once she's taken in. All I can tell you for certain is that she was definitely hit on the back of the head, that's the cause of death for sure." It was with that that the woman left, leaving the three detectives to look over the scene.

Emma couldn't take her eyes off the woman however, something about the way she was posed bothered her. Well, not bothered—it was somehow familiar—

"Emma?" Jolted from her thoughts, she looked in David's direction with a questioning look, "we were just saying we should canvas the area, see if we can find anything else. Maybe the killer dumped her clothes nearby."

She gave a nod in answer, though already Emma had an idea on who to go looking to for answers, "we should also visit Killian Jones' home."

"Yes we – what? Emma, I know you like his books but I doubt he has anything that can help." Graham didn't bother adding anything, just looking at them with a smirk and a raised brow, as if he knew something they didn't. She'd have to wring it from him later, not while her father was standing right there however, giving her a tired look. It wasn't as if she was obsessed with the mystery novelist, she just enjoyed his books and how much research and effort went into each one

"The placement of the body, the clothes, even the method of death, it's straight out of his book 'Frost Bite'. The first in his Zoe Frost series." Emma had fallen in love with the heroine the moment she'd picked up the book; spunky, sassy, not afraid of saying what things were, Zoe was everything Emma had wanted to be. If she was honest with herself, she was a bit jealous to know that the woman was based off the authors late wife. She hadn't been surprised to read 'Killer Heels' and find the heroine had met her fate… "I'm not going to rule him out as a suspect just because I'm a fan of his works, Nolan." Emphasizing his surname to remind him that they were on the job and any personal things could be dealt with later when Mills wasn't likely to have both their asses for it.

"Looks like we're paying Jones a visit then, aye? Lets do what we can here then and go see the man, though—"

When he suddenly cut himself off, Emma frowned, wondering just what the man had been about to say. Her brows knit together, giving him a questioning look, even more curious as he raised a hand, signalling not to ask. Oh but she would though, just not here, and not with David around. "Hopefully he's home when we go to ask him about this."

Now that, that had made the man still, back tense, refusing to look Emma's way. All Graham gave her was a sound of agreement, humming it as he stood, camera in hand, ready to photograph any other evidence. She was definitely going to have to ask him about that later, especially as she'd never seen him act like this, it was like he was hiding something.

"I'll look through the dumpsters and trash cans nearby, maybe he tried to dump the clothes on his way out." David said, gesturing in the direction of the nearest one with a thumb. She wanted to tell him not to rule out a female suspect, Jones had a large female fanbase after all, but instead she nodded, putting her hands in her pockets as she lowered herself to look over the body. Graham was still near her, and she could feel his eyes on her, tense and ready to snap, Emma sent him a questioning look, thankful when he finally looked away. If he wanted to keep secrets, fine, but they had better not intervene with the case.

"I've collected as much as I could from the body, including any possible injury marks, but as it was a hit and run—so to speak—there won't be much. Not even evidence under the nails." He gave a sigh at that, pushing his hair back. "Want me to call over the guys to take her away?"

Emma thought on it a moment before nodding and pushing up to stand, "not much I can get from her, I can get the full report from Ruby later seeing as most of it can be taken at face value." Hit from behind, clothing changed in some perverse reenactment of the scene from Frost Bite. Though something felt off, she just couldn't tell what it was, like something was missing.

She'd figure it out later, for now she had to canvas the area for anything they might have over looked, get any surveillance footage, and then pay a visit with New York's most eligible bachelor.

Killian couldn't tell what was worse; sobriety or hang overs. Probably both in equal amounts, but at the moment he was feeling more annoyance with his hang over than with his sobriety. After all, that was something he could easily fix with his supply of rum in the kitchen.

Thinking of that, he looked toward the island where a couple bottles of the drink were scattered, some tipped over, his house keeper would be furious. At least he had the decency to be ashamed, rubbing a tired hand over his face before scratching at the stubble along his jaw. He should probably get dressed, probably answer Isabel's calls about killing off Zoe Frost, probably do a lot of things, but when had he ever done anything he should?

If anything the only thing he was good at doing was fucking up royally.

He exhaled a drawn out sigh as he stretched his arms above his head, pyjama bottoms riding low on his hips. The party for his book release had been great, if a bit annoying as everyone had asked the same thing; why kill Zoe? It was as if they forgot who had been his muse for that very character. At least Zoe had gotten to die with dignity, Milah she—

Closing his eyes he tried to push the thoughts aside, heart beating rapidly in his chest as the memory of her death returned as vivid as the day it had happened. How she'd given him a horrified look as she died in his arms. If he could turn back time he would have died in her place, at the very least make it so she'd died with out fear…

Most days he still wondered if her death had been something more than just an accident, if Robert Gold had something to do with it, but as he was doing his best to avoid that man there was no way he could find out.

As his right hand idly massaged the scar that wrapped around his left wrist, he stared at the counter thoughtfully, pulled from it and how he should clean up by the sound of his doorbell.

Who—?

Hopefully it wasn't Isabel, she'd likely give him a beating for the state he and his home were in. Even more he hoped it wasn't someone who'd want inside his home, which made him grimace and the pain in his wrist worsen. He was a wreck, maybe he could just sent them away, make them leave him in peace to wallow in his own misery.

Gods why did they have to release the book around the anniversary of her death? Why did Zoe have to die around the same time as she died?

Despite the ache in his chest, how old wounds were being reopened and salt rubbed into them, he moved to the door and opened it with a smile forced onto his features, surprised to be greeted with three figures there. While his eyes fixed on Graham a moment, narrowing with confusion and surprise to see his old schoolmate, what at least pleased him was the petite blonde before him. Taking in the sight of her curls as his mind wandered to thoughts of how soft they looked, if they'd be just as soft in with his fingers running through them. There was a harsh swallow as he put on a mask of cocky confidence, leaning against the doorway, taking note of how the act made his old friend tense.

Graham always knew how to read him.

Didn't matter much when the bastard hadn't been around to help when Killian had begun spiralling, then again no one had really been around during that time. Not even his own brother…

"Well hello there, love." His tongue dragged across his lips as his eyes roamed over her figure, not even flinching when the other man with her moved closer protectively. "If you want an autograph—" his head cocked to the side, one brow raising, more than willing to sign wherever she wanted it, though he imagined he'd be willing to do a lot of things with her just to forget other things. Even for a night.

"Sorry, not here for some scribbles on a page." He almost wanted to be offended at that, though what she could really be here for had him more interested, and curious, as it might be the distraction he needed. After all, she was flanked by two men, which had to mean something. "NYPD—" ahh, there it was. "We've reason to believe your first book was instrumental in the murder of a young woman and want to ask you a few question." He frowned at those words, body tense, before pushing away from the door, back into his home. There was a single handed gesture for them to follow him inside, now wishing he'd taken that drink he'd been thinking of before they'd arrived to crash his party, so to speak.

The news was sobering at least, though he was sure the state of his home was enough to tell them that the man was far from being in any condition to have murdered someone, or be pleasant company. If anything, it was likely his Irish blood that made him more tolerant of hang overs—that and the alcohol abuse. "Alright, make yourself at home, I'll just go get dressed. An' tell that arse, Graham that he needs to learn to answer his fuckin' cellphone." He sent a dark look over his shoulder at the man, the guilty one sent back was at least somewhat comforting, but it didn't make things easier. Killian had hoped his friend would be of some comfort, but when he needed him, the bastard was missing.

With that he stalked off to his room, in no mood to worry about image, or anything like that. He could hear hushed words from the group in the entrance to his home, but paid no mind to it, they were likely wondering how he knew the officer. Served the bloody bastard right, and it wasn't like Graham could deny knowing Killian lived in New York, he hadn't made his move a secret and he'd been here for years.

This was the house he and Milah had planned to live in…

Shaking away the thoughts, he slipped into some pants, before throwing on a long sleeved shirt, grabbing his cellphone and some socks and shoes. It was with a lick of his lips that he reentered the living room, sitting down on the arm of a chair to pull his socks on, not bothering to look up at any of them. "So which series is it copying?" He could take a guess, but would prefer she tell him so that he'd have more of a clue as to what things were like. Zoe hadn't been his first foray into the mystery scene, but she'd been his longest running one.

He'd only given her up because his therapist and him agreed it was time he let go of Milah, and for Killian, that meant letting go of Milah too. The only thing he couldn't let go of was Bae, but the boy lived with his father.

"Also, if you don't mind, it would be nice to know yours and the surly fellow's name. I know that bastard," there was a gesture toward Graham as Killian looked up to meet the eyes of the woman who he could only guess was leading the three of them.

"First in the Zoe Frost series, it was right out of 'Frost Bite'." Just as he suspected, though he could only guess it was likely staged. He'd have to ask for photos—not out of curiosity, though it was there, but to better know if there was something she or the killer missed. "I'm Detective Emma Swan, this is Officer David Nolan, and as you mentioned you know Officer Humbert."

Ahh, so she had older member of the force with her. He might not know the man personally, but in his research he'd read up about the things Officer Nolan had done, and about his wife. "So what can I do for you detective?" Once he had his shoes on he stood before her, adjusting his sleeves, pulling the left one tight over his wrist to hide the scarring there.

"We need to know if you have any idea who could have done this; crazed fan, enemy out to set you up, things like that." He could see Graham tense at the mention of enemies out of the corner of his eye, they both knew what enemy would be the most likely to do this. Sending a pointed look in his old friend's direction, he knew he'd have to reassure him that it wasn't likely his father doing this. Doubted the bastard cared about Killian enough to chase him down, even then Kieran was a bit more—forward.

"Alas, I don't love. I've a lot of enemies, and a lot of crazed fans. You'll probably find more than a couple restraining orders I've put out on those who've threatened any woman I've been with for more than a couple o' seconds. But I can collect you things like fanmail, message boards, and a list o' enemies. I like to keep track in case anything happens to me." With that said another look was exchanged between himself and Graham before the author turned to head toward his office, hearing a 'that would be great, Mr. Jones' along with the sound of the others following behind.

Even if he didn't feel his father would come for him right that moment, he wanted to be careful as the man was crafty and obsessive at best. Didn't help he was a renown mobster from Ireland, Killian had come to America with Liam just to escape him and his clutches, and hopefully make Liam see the light about the man. It took their mother's murder for him to at least stop being so damn loyal to him, and Killian had never forgiven Kieran for what he'd done to Evelyn.

He stared at his desk, lost in thought for a moment, pulled out by the sound of Emma coughing into her hand. "Right, sorry, was thinking." Offering her a small smile, he moved over to where he kept his fanmail—at least the more recent stuff—picking the box up and setting it on the desk. "My manager, Isabel, has any new fanmail that has come in and not been sent to me yet, which would likely be from the last couple weeks." If it was negative or threatening, chances were she would have hidden it from him as she knew what date was coming up. "This is as recent as the past couple months. I keep anything older in storage. Though I imagine what I have here and what Isabel has is more of interest t' you." With that said he moved over to his laptop, "I can offer you my laptop as well however—as I said—I keep e-mails and track of message boards and the likes. I try to keep in touch with my fans as best I can." There was a small smile as he said that, a distant look in his eyes.

Really, fan contact was one of the few joys he got these days.

"What's here—and what your manager has—should do for now, thank you."

Killian nodded in answer, looking her way as he pulled his phone out, sending Isabel a text to bring any new fanmail to the precinct, as well as what was going on. Added to that, he mentioned that she didn't need to worry, that he wasn't a suspect.

"So, you stalk your fansites?" That was from the surly one, which had Killian looking his way with a dry stare.

"As I said, I like to keep in touch with my fanbase. I also know about all the fan forums, popular blogs, and the likes. Yeah it's probably a bit paranoid, but I write crime novels, plus it's good to know what people are saying and what I'm doing right or wrong." He wasn't going to let someone who didn't know him or his situation judge him for what he did in his spare time, sometimes he looked because it would lift his spirits, even the tiniest bit.

"Having your laptop would be a great help, Mr. Jones." He could see the blonde giving Detective Nolan a dark look, thankful for it in a way. "Especially as the suspect likely tried to reach out to you in more than one format, so we can cross reference them with any forum posts, blogs, or even letters."

Giving another nod at that, he began to collect anything he may need, thankful in a way as he would have likely spent his day sulking about the house otherwise. While the circumstances were tragic, he had little reason to leave his home these days. "I'll be ready to leave momentarily." He gave them an—albeit forced—smile before collecting his charger and various other things, anything he felt he may need during his consultation on this case.

They thankfully left him to collect his things, giving him a moment to rest his hands on the desk and breathe. His eyes closed as he bowed his head, back bent forward as all his weight rested on his hands. The amount of shame he felt for them coming in to see him in this condition was astounding, but it was no surprise, he was going to have to be more careful. Especially as he didn't want this getting back to Liam and his brother to come down on him, worrying the bloody mayor was something he didn't want to do. So as soon as possible he was going to have to clean up here, or at least pay the cleaning lady extra and tell her to not let his brother know.

Powers that be, he only hoped Isabel didn't tell Liam about all this.

Slipping the laptop, chords, and other essentials into a messenger bag, he headed out into the living room, sending a quick text to his cleaning lady that he'd pay her extra for the mess. Along with apologizing profusely, and telling her to not let his brother know about all of it as this was a bit of a disaster.

"Well, Miss Swan, I'm ready." He looked up from his cellphone at the three who looked at him curiously, wondering just what they were thinking. Killian tried to push any paranoid thoughts aside, instead putting on his usual front of a cheery demeanour, even if his mind was reeling with what they may be thinking or what they could have been talking about before his arrival.

"Right, we have two cars outside so you can ride with me, Mr. Jones." Swan gestured to the door as Killian nodded, grabbing his keys off the counter before following them to the door, his image falling for only a moment as Graham passed so he could eye the other man darkly. Chances were they were going to have a talk after all this, but only after the case was over with as he wasn't going to let his own problems get in the way of justice.

He locked up behind them, watching the two men head for their car before following Detective Swan to her own, and climbing into the passengers side. It was awkward and quiet, but at least it was better than being at home, he just hoped she wouldn't ask—

"So, have a party last night?"

"Aye, 'fore you count me as a suspect I have enough witnesses to count for where I was." And how much he'd drunk that night, and the night before. "Anyone there last night could tell you, and as you could see by the amount of alcohol bottles I was too inebriated to commit murder. Passed out some time after midnight after someone helped me to my room and let the guests out."

It was all true, he had had a few people over that night for a small tight knit book release party, mostly the elite, and after a few had stayed as Killian drunk himself into a stupor. Mostly other author friends who criticized his choice in killing off his big selling heroine. The same bastards had also criticized his choice in making his big seller a woman. Something that made him consider that he needed new friends.

"It's just standard procedure, you know that." That he did, didn't mean he had to like it though, in fact he hated it, glaring out the window as they headed into the city and through it's walls. "Just give me a list of contacts we can corroborate the story with in case anyone does want to point the finger at you, alright?"

"Aye, aye." A heavy sigh left him, pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing this would go easier if he cooperated. He had a feeling that even though this would get him out of the house for the day, he wasn't going to enjoy it.


	2. 2—Stepped Out of the Darkness

Once Killian was set up in a room to begin going through the fanmail, Emma dashed into the break room, leaning back against a window as she let out the breath she'd been holding in. A part of her knew she'd held the man up on some sort of pedestal, likely romanticized him in more than a couple ways, after all he'd created one of her favourite book series'. And now it felt like that image she'd created of him was shattered and fallen to pieces around her. An image the author had likely done his best to upkeep and encourage the public to have of him from how he'd acted around them.

He'd even apologized for the mess…

Wiping a hand over her face, Emma looked up as David entered the break room smiling sadly at her. "Looks like not even Humbert expected what we saw in there." Her eyes cast downward, remembering the conversation they'd had at his place while the man had gone to change clothes…

"You know him?" Emma had hissed, eyes narrowed on her partner as she took a step closer to him.

Graham had raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back, "we were schoolmates back in Ireland, even came to America together when we went to go to college, so yes, I know him. We fell out of touch though, an' I'll admit it was my fault, I was dealing with some things and sort of treated 'im like shit when he needed me. An' by shit I mean I kind'a ignored 'im." A grimace followed his words as Emma groaned inwardly.

That explained why Jones had been in a bad mood. If his own best friend was ignoring him during a time of need he had every right to be pissed.

"Did you know—"

"No, I didn't. Killian's the kind to go into hiding and lick his wounds, chances are only a few people know, but I can guess what's goin' on here an' it ain't pretty."

Emma could guess just as well as Graham, but she wouldn't solidify her guess until she knew more, but it told them that Jones wasn't their killer. Even if she'd have to ask him just where and what he'd been doing that night for procedures sake, chances were he was stone cold drunk that night. Dragging a hand over her face, she paced, stopping only when she heard his footsteps.

"We'll talk about this later, our priority is this case, alright?" Both men nodded, and she was thankful for that as she didn't know if she could take a talk about how her idol wasn't who she thought he was.

And worse; she didn't know if she was upset or thankful for the smack from reality…

"None of us could have seen that coming, so please, don't start. I'm just—taking a moment to process everything. We'll get back to the case and when I get home after all this I can mope about how I might have over romanticized Jones as the man of my dreams." As she spoke she moved over to the coffee machine, making a face at it as she wished they could fit some room into their budget for a better one.

The sound of a sigh coming from her father made Emma want to glare at him but instead she stared at the machine, wanting to remind him that she was a grown woman. She could handle disappointment. Emma wasn't the little girl being sent from foster home to foster home anymore, dreaming of finding a family, of belonging. Though the day her parents had found her, after losing her for years…

That had been the happiest day of her life.

"I just think that perhaps we should back up and look at this as if we don't know him is all—"

"And that's just it, we don't know him. All we know is his name and reputation," which if Emma knew anything of Jones' reputation, he was a womanizer, and loved to party, but for all she knew that was another part of his false image. "The only one of us who remotely knows him is Humbert, and he fell out of touch with him. So objectively, despite my position as a fan of his works, we're going in blind. My being a fan isn't going to adversely affect this case in any way, Dad." Her words were sharp but to the point, she was tired of being coddled because she'd put the man on a pedestal, forgetting that even stars could fall.

When she looked to him with narrowed eyes, the man had his hands raised in surrender, backing up. "Alright, I see your point. I'll see if he needs any help going through the fanmail." She nodded her agreement, watching as he exited the room, backing out to head toward the one where Killian was reading through letters. Once he was gone she fell back against the counter, hands resting on it's surface as she tilted her head upward, taking in a deep breath. This was going to be a long couple of days, and that was if they were lucky enough to catch the killer in that time!

Fortunately for her there were plenty of distractions to be had, Graham bringing news of a new lead pulling her from her melancholy long enough to follow him to the scene. Ruby had called her to tell her about some things she found on the victim's body, that she'd have Jones look to see if any of it was familiar, it seemed everything would work out.

Until they got the call about another crime scene.

At least with Jones in custody there was concrete proof that he couldn't have done it. Especially as her father would have been with him during the time of the crime, she doubted David would let Jones out of his sight knowing his daughter was a fan. "Yeah Dad, we're heading to the scene now, Graham and I just finished interviewing a lead, do you want us to meet you there?"

"Yes, Jones says he wants to get a look at the scene. He has a hunch—which he isn't telling me by the way—and wants to see this one. Told me he'd walk there if I didn't drive him so, I figured I'll keep an eye on him and get him there, to birds with one stone."

"Y'do know I can hear ye, right?" Emma had to stifle a laugh hearing Jones' annoyed tone through the phone, her father giving a quick goodbye before going to placate the author who by the sounds of it was muttering things in a language Emma wasn't familiar with. She hung up, slipping her cellphone into her pocket, before hanging her arm out the window, letting the cool breeze calm her nerves. "Hey, Graham?"

"Emma."

"What was he like? Before all this mess."

"I think that's a story for him to tell you when this case is over. I know you're a fan, Emma, and I know he's innocent as much as you do, but remember that he is still part of this case."

"He's also your friend, how do you deal with it? Knowing someone who you were so close to is at the centre of this?"

"I'm barely holding up honestly, we left Ireland for a better chance together, and here we are. I'm a homicide detective and he's a millionaire hotshot and an alcoholic."

She could only hum her acknowledgement at those words, glad to know that she wasn't the only one who'd had her rose tinted glasses shattered by the sight of the man they'd seen when they had entered Jones' home. It wasn't healthy, putting people like celebrities on pedestals, but she'd hoped to one day have a love like his and Milah's. One that transcended death. Emma just didn't think that he had trouble coping with death, that it would hold up until now.

Would anyone ever love her like that?

Emma was pulled from her melancholy by Graham as they arrived at the scene, putting on a front as she stepped out of the cruiser to head into the public pool where their next victim would be waiting. From the sounds of it it was straight out of another one of Jones' books, which meant they definitely had a crazed fan on their hands, either that or someone threatening Jones. Framing him was definitely out of the question as the man was accounted for during each murder. It was possible he could have hired someone, but somehow Emma doubted he'd go to these lengths.

A minute later, after they'd talked with the officer on scene, David and Killian arrived, the author stepping out of the cruiser as soon as it was parked. He jogged over to them, Emma holding up a hand when the officer went to tell him to step back. "So, is it another one from one of my books?" That tone, the look in his eyes—was it guilt?

She had to tell herself that of course he'd feel guilty, someone was killing people and setting them up to look like crime scenes out of his books. "Haven't seen the scene yet, but from the sounds of it—" her voice trailed off as she gestured with her head for him to follow as she stepped toward the crime scene.

The three followed behind her as she walked into the pool where the body was laying next to the water. Ruby was crouched next to the dead woman, and when she looked up to greet them she stilled. It was when she realized that the woman's eyes were on Jones that it dawned on her.

Oh no. She wasn't going to hear the end of this and she knew it. Ruby knew about Emma's love of Killian Jones' crime novels, his attention for detail and how he'd research everything thoroughly, she'd spent more than enough nights talking with Ruby about the man's latest book. She'd even cried about Zoe's death with Ruby, inconsolable even as Ruby tried to comfort her, reminding her that the character had been based on the man's dead wife. It was time for him to move on, and thus time to let go of Zoe.

What Emma didn't expect was for her favourite crime series to become the centre of an investigation, or for someone to be killing people in the same way the novels victims died.

"Is that—?"

"Yes, it is. He's consulting for the case as the crimes are based around his books. Now about our victim, Lucas." She stressed the other woman's surname, giving her a pointed look with a raised brow, arms crossed over her chest.

"Multiple stab wounds, look like she put up a fight. She was dressed up like this also so this is definitely staged. We have photos of the scene when we found it, she was laying face first in the pool."

"Death—"

"—Of a prom queen." Emma would have swooned at his thick accent, the way he said it, if it wasn't for the fact that she knew Killian shouldn't be on the scene.

"Jones, you should probably be behind the police tape, this is a closed investigation."

"Of which I am involved in, unless you want me to call the mayor to get a little leeway. Mind you, Liam may take issue with being woken up at this hour." That smirk made her want to smack him, especially how he sounded so damn cocky. How was he so sure the mayor would give him a pass to just have the run of their crime scenes? He may be involved and invited onto the scene but he had to obey their rules.

Emma was about to ask how he was so sure of himself until she remembered something; "Mayor Jones. You're related to the mayor."

His smirk turned into a grin, hands in his pockets as he rolled back onto the heels of his feet. "Happens t' be my big brother, so not just related, 'e's my sibling." Oh now she just wanted to shove him into the pool.

It was enough to have a cocky pseudo-celebrity and New York's most wanted Bachelor as number one suspect (ruling out the fact that all evidence said that he didn't do it), but the Mayor's baby brother too? Now this was just too much. "Jones, I need you to get back behind the crime scene tape, while these may be linked to your books, you're a suspect and not working the case with us." She reminded him, tone firm. "The only reason you are here is because you're the author of these books," and a suspect she had to tell herself.

"That and he did say he'd come here on his own—"

"Not helping, Nolan. Jones, behind the crime scene tape. In fact, it might be best you go home, we'll call you if you're needed." When he opened his mouth to protest, she raised a hand, "no. Go home, Jones. And if I catch you trying to pull strings I will lock you up for obstruction of justice and interfering with an ongoing investigation. Nolan, would you mind taking Mr. Jones home?" At least with her father out of the way she wouldn't have to deal with those looks he gave her whenever they were dealing with something that would hit a little too close to home for Emma.

Though she was sure David knew this was a sort of 'time out' for his stunts earlier. If she wasn't sure they'd butt heads, Emma would think her father and Killian Jones would make good friends.

The glare Jones shot her would have broken her heart had he not been giving her a headache at that moment, furiously thinking about how she wasnot his babysitter. She was not going to deal with an alcoholic celebrity author, and a case at the same time, and certainly not right now.

Emma watched with arms crossed over her chest as David lead Jones away, one arm at the man's back which was quickly shrugged away by the author. While she was sure she'd be hearing about this later, she couldn't find it in herself to care at the moment. There was a body that needed her attention—how did he even slip into the crime scene so quickly?—and a suspect list to compile. At least with Jones having alibi's for both murders she could scratch him off the list.

That meant it was likely someone with a grudge against the author and from the sounds of it, the man had a lot of people with a grudge against him.

With a sigh Emma turned back to the case at hand, ignoring the looks she was getting from both Ruby and Graham, they could judge her dismissal later. Right now she had a killer to catch before they murdered anyone else—or even their resident celebrity.

Killian was sour the whole way home, almost dodging Detective Nolan so he could investigate things on his own, but the man had a sharp eye and it wasn't as if Killian wanted to get arrested. No, he had to find out what he needed to know with out being caught, which might mean sneaking into the precinct to get the files when no one was looking.

Or use a few skills he picked up back home getting into trouble as a teen to swipe them. The thought brought a smile to his face, which he knew was making Nolan concerned but he could not care less. If they were going to shrug off how much of a valuable asset he could be then he'd solve this case on his own, with or with out their help. It was better than sitting at home alone drinking at least, and if Liam wanted to yell at him for what he was about to do later, he would point that out to his dear older brother.

He slammed the door shut on the cruiser once let off at his home. Killian didn't even let David have a chance to talk to him, to give the usual 'have a good night, we'll call you if we need anything'. The author was used to hearing empty words like that, not just because of his addiction but he was a fuckin' mystery author, he studied how these things worked. Heard words like that in his sleep when he remembered how his mother died…

The heels of his palms pressed at his eyes, pushing away thoughts of her dead body, Killian could never discern if it was him screaming or someone else in his memories. Just that someone had been screaming…

Gritting his teeth he moved into his home, a wave of guilt washing over him seeing all the empty bottles gone, and a note that she'd left him some food in the fridge. Isabel had likely told her about how he'd been arrested which just made him grimace, knowing he didn't deserve either of them, even if one was on his pay roll.

Shaking his head, he moved to the fridge to pull out the lasagna that had been left for him, setting it in the microwave to cook. Already he was formulating a plan to get into the precinct and steal the case files, his charm would likely be enough to to arouse suspicion, though he'd have to be prepared for when they caught on. Keep his cellphone off until he'd read all of what was in the files and had an idea in his mind of what was wrong. Something had felt off to him when he saw the first crime scene, and seeing the second—

He just had a feeling that he couldn't shake that whoever this was wasn't actually a fan of his works. Someone was being set up.

The sound of the microwave going off jarred him out of his thoughts, followed by the sound of his cellphone alerting him that his brother was calling. Wonderful. Someone alerted the overprotective big brother about his going to jail and being kicked away from a crime scene, he was in for it.

"Liam," his tone was dry as he answered the call, holding his cellphone with his left hand as he maneuvered his food out of the microwave with the other.

"Hello to you too baby brother. I heard you had a busy day." The cheery tone had Killian rolling his eyes, setting the bowl down on the counter as he looked for a fork.

"Understatement. They showed up just after I woke up—"

"Which knowing you was probably late in the day. How much did you drink last night?" Killian rested his hand on the counter, knowing his brother was trying to joke and be concerned but at the same time he knew Liam didn't have time nor energy to deal with his little brother's melt downs.

"That's not up for discussion right now, Liam. Anyway, I gave them everything I had, along with an alibi."

"And then they had to go and kick you out of the big kids club."

"It's not like that!" Fork found, he grabbed his bowl, heading for the living room so he could have a moment to sit down, knowing they would need to process everything before be could steal the files. "I am an asset to this case and if they actually let me take a bloody look—"

"This isn't like back home, Killian. They don't know what you know—" and if Killian had his way, they never would. A sigh left him as he set the bowl down on the coffee table, falling back on the couch. "Rather, they don't know you, your history."

"Graham's there…"

Those words earned him the sound of Liam sucking in a breath, knowing the weight of what that meant. Graham had left Ireland with them when he and Killian were just boys. Graham had no family, neither did the Jones brother, so it left them to only each other. For the longest time Liam and Graham were all Killian had…

"He probably doesn't want you getting involved with these kinds of things again, Killian. And I don't either, frankly. You've seen enough death to last a life time." That was saying it nicely.

"You know for the first time since she died I was actually eager to leave the house?"

"Killian, don't start this—"

"No, Liam. You know what that means. And if I go tell my therapist this, even she'll agree that anything that gets me out and into the world is a good thing." The only other thing that would need tackling would be his drinking.

"Just please tell me you're not going to do anything stupid." There was silence, as Killian couldn't promise that. Not when he had a plan in his head to walk over there and swipe the case files under the premise of apologizing for his behaviour. After all, he could make use of the files and see if he could find things that they didn't. "Killian."

"I ain't promising something I can't fulfil, Liam." That was all he was going to say on the subject, but he was sure that Liam knew it meant he had something stupid in mind already. Especially as he could hear his brother cursing in gaelic on the other side of the line, which meant he just knewKillian was going to do something and Liam would have to bail him out.

After a heavy sigh—likely Liam relenting to the fact that he couldn't stop Killian from going out and making a fool of himself—he heard, "fine. Just don't get yourself hurt, or killed." The 'or arrested' was silent, hanging in the air between them, though Killian already knew he'd be getting arrested soon enough, it would just be a matter of how long it would take for them to catch him.

"I won't. In fact, I'm going to go apologize to Detective Swan for my behaviour tomorrow."

"Good, maybe bring her something like chocolate or flowers."

"Aye, aye. I know the drill. I've had to do it more than enough times with Isabel."

"You get some sleep, alright? I'll call you tomorrow to see how you're doing." Empty promises, though he was sure Liam would actually call him once he found out what his little brother had done.

"You too, I will once I've eaten." There was a murmured good bye in gaelic before he hung up, turning the TV on to whatever looked interesting at the time. Maybe a Criminal Minds rerun would be enough to soothe him before bed, though he was sure his rest would be fitful as it always was. The nightmares never gave him a chance to just relax after all…

He woke the next morning, sprawled on the couch with his cellphone alerting him to a call. An annoyed groan passed from the authors lips as he righted himself, glaring at the offending device before reaching out to answer the call. "'Llo?"

"Morning, Jones." That had him sitting upright with interest, hearing Swan's voice on the other end. Killian wasn't even going to question how she got his number, chances are he gave it to her with out thinking, or she looked it up. "We got a suspect in custody, and I was wondering if you'd like to come see us wrap up the case."

Well that was kind of her, though he had a feeling their suspect wasn't the actual killer. It was a hunch, and one he'd likely pay for, but at least he wasn't a cop and didn't have to play by their rules. A reason he never went to law school, or even tried to become a member of law enforcement, the mere suggestion would have had Liam laughing at him, he was sure.

Rubbing the heel of his free hand against one eye, he yawned, "sure. Just gimme a bit, need t' get dressed and such." With that they said their good-byes leaving him to collect himself and try to pull himself together enough to head to the precinct.

Once there, he made a beeline for where she was talking with Detective Nolan. Likely Humbert was avoiding him, which just soured his mood, a scowl fixing itself on his features before he schooled his expression as they looked his way. He faked a cheery smile, hands in his pockets as he looked from one to the other. "Well then, lead the way?"

"Humbert's already in with out suspect. This is looking to be more difficult than we expected." While that explained where his old friend was, it didn't explain what was going on. Emma nodded to the observation room where he'd wait with Nolan as she interrogated the suspect with Humbert.

It wasn't until he was in the observation room that he understood, watching the man rock back and forth almost feverishly. "Is there any chance I could see the case files?"

"On going investigation—"

"Aye, aye." He shook his head. Just something felt off about all of this, he was getting that feeling in his gut again that they were missing something. It's likely this man was being set up. As they spoke with him it was clear he had some developmental disorder which brought up his obsession with the author, but his inability to sit still—this couldn't be their man. "Tell me, how did you narrow it down to him?"

"Fingerprints on a letter."

"Were there any at any of the crime scenes?"

"Well no—"

"Does this look like someone who could clean up fingerprints, let alone be meticulous enough not to leave any?" Killian had a hard time himself when his left hand acted up because of the old injury. "This doesn't add up, there's a piece missing in the story."

"Sometimes things are just simple like this, Jones. Not everything needs to be something out of one of your crime novels."

All that earned him was a dry laugh as he let himself out, determined more now that he had a hunch, and he had a plan on just how to get those files…

~!~

A sigh left Emma as she leaned back against the door to the observation room. "He's not opening up, he seems to be having some sort of episode. If he's on any medications, I don't think he's been taking them for some time." It took her a moment before she realized it was only Nolan there, brows knit in confusion. "Where's Jones?"

"He got upset, saying things about how things don't add up, finger prints, and stuff like that."

There was a curse, Emma pushed her hair back as she looked at her father a moment before shaking her head. "And you let him leave like that?"

"You don't think he'd—"

"He's a mystery writer who crashed one of our crime scenes to get a closer look and who has threatened to go to scenes himself. You tell me."

Both left the room in a rush, only to find Jones was not too far away, sitting at Emma's desk and going through her things. As they approached him, he raised the book he had in his hands, "knew you were a fan. The moment you mentioned one of my earlier novels I knew you had to be a groupie."

Emma's cheeks went hot, snatching the book from his hands, watching as he unconsciously wrapped the right hand around the left's wrist, massaging it. She almost wanted to apologize, though it had been him who'd been going through her things. A look was cast over her shoulder at Nolan, one brow raised. Though once her attention was back at her desk she noticed a few things; namely the flowers and chocolate now sitting there. "Did you—"

"Figured it would be a suitable apology for my behaviour, and thank you for allowing me to help in any way I can." He stood, crowding a little into her space. "Oh, and I took the liberty of signing the book for you, though I couldn't help but notice one of them was signed already."

Going tense, she pushed him away gently with one hand. "Jones—"

"Aye, aye. I'll get m'self out of your lovely hair." He picked up his jacket and some papers that appeared to be his on the desk. "Y'know where to find me if you need me, Swan." With that and a wink he was gone, leaving her to slump down into her chair, watching him go.

"Hey, Mom! Grandpa!" It was at the familiar voice Emma looked up, a smile lighting up her features as she moved to embrace her son. "Was that—"

"Killian Jones in all his surly glory. Yeah. And before you ask, case is still ongoing so I can't share any details."

"But Mom—"

"No 'but mom's. Now tell me about school."

It wasn't until she'd had David escort Henry home that she noticed the files on the investigation involving Killian Jones' novels were missing.

~!~

So he was right to suspect that something was wrong. Killian's finger traced along the pages as he read through the notes taking in the coroners reports, evidence, among other things. His eyes narrowed as he took in how there was no evidence, not even a finger print to link their man to the case.

Not to mention there was the issue of their suspect being obsessed. He looked over the photos of the man's apartment, taking in the shrine that had been built to 'honour' him. If he was this obsessed the crime scenes would have been an exact replica of how they were in the novels, but they weren't. To the untrained eye they were, but as this was Killian's own novels, well he knew where their true killer had gone wrong.

The flower petals were off, the dress of the 'prom queen', among other key details.

"Killian Jones, you're under arrest." He didn't even look up from what he was reading, though really he was impressed she'd found him so soon.

"You have the wrong man." Was all he said as he closed the files, moving to stand as he handed them to her, ignoring the sigh from Humbert. He thought for a moment that maybe Graham had lead them to him, but it was unlikely, and more likely Graham had called Liam to ask where he'd hide. "Looks like I'm not the only one who uses the mayor as leverage."

"How—"

He leaned in close as the handcuffs were being placed on his wrists, not so casually kicking the other man when his left wrist ached. "Humbert doesn't know me as well as he used to, and seeing as I'm sure he has my brothers number, well I put two and two together love. But you have got the wrong man. Dress on the third victim? All wrong. Flower petals around the second? Wrong. Fingerprints missing? You should have noticed all these things love. Perhaps instead of listening to the baboons you should trust your self more, aye?"

"You don't know me, Jones."

"On the contrary, I'd say you're somewhat of an open book."

He knew he'd gotten through to her however as she watched him being lead away, despite the childish fighting between himself and Humbert that was going on. Once out of earshot however;

"What the hell were you thinking?" Killian rolled his eyes as Graham hissed at him in gaelic.

"That I could do more to help than be a pretty accessory."

"By getting arrested?"

"What, like you or they were going to let me help any other way? I can do more than just provide things like fanmail and good looks."

"Killian, you left that life a long time ago."

"I'm not going back to crime, I'm trying to help stop it. Bloody hell, Graham I don't need to be coddled!"

"Is everything okay here?" Emma's voice drew them away from their argument, both men turning to look at the petite woman as she looked between them.

"Aye, Humbert and I were just airing some things." Killian said before Graham could say anything else, letting himself into the car before their earlier conversation could be continued.

Turned out that the moment Liam had been called he left his meeting to head to the precinct, already there when they'd arrived with him. Graham undid the cuffs, rolling his eyes as Killian scowled at him, massaging his left one. Though a pained noise left him as Liam smacked him up side the back of the head.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

A string of curses left Killian, feeling suitably cornered now with Graham on one side and Liam on the other. "I wanted to help you daft—"

"You're the daft one here, interfering with an ongoing investigation, stealing police files, I should let them hold you until it sinks in that you need to stop doing stuff like this."

"Oh bloody hell, what is it, gang up on Killian day?"

"Don't start Killian." Liam finished in English, looking over as Emma approached them. "Detective Swan, I apologize for my brothers behaviour."

"It's quite alright, just please make sure there's no repeat incidents. I don't want to have to go through this again."

"Will do," he nodded to her as he took Killian by the arm, the younger man cursing him as he guided him out of the building.

~!~

It bothered her however, that Jones had a point. The pieces didn't add up. Texting Henry that she'd be home late, she stared at the crime board, taking what Killian had told her to heart. If he was being set up, then it might not be a serial after all, and motive really was involved. It was a matter of figuring out who the real target was. Ruling out the first and third murders, that left them with the only the second—their suspects case worker.

The next morning, she showed up at the victims fathers office, rolling her eyes when she found Killian already there, as if he was waiting for her. "I thought I told you to stop interfering."

"You told my brother to keep me from it, forgetting that he's a busy man and not exactly my sitter."

Rolling her eyes Emma decided to just let him tag along, he was the reason she'd found this lead after all. The one that could very well crack the case. Not long after they'd figured out that the woman's father was dying and was to leave a large inheritance for her, millions in fact. The son who was in debt wanted it for himself, especially after being cut off due to his multiple financial failures.

Her murder had been for money after all.

Back at the precinct, Emma sighed, looking to Killian with a sight smile. "Thank you, with you you we wouldn't have solved the case." She offered him a hand, smiling tight. Though her pride was wounded, a part of her was happy to know he felt she could have figured it out on her own.

"No, thank you." He took her hand, shaking it firmly. While she was curious as to why, she didn't ask, letting him keep his secrets.

"I hope next time we see each other it will be under different circumstances."

When he doesn't respond in kind, Emma frowned, watching him go before shaking her head.

~!~

That night Killian worked hard at his laptop, talking with Liam over the phone about how inspired he was, making sure to emphasize that for his brothers sake. There was a follow up with Isabel to let her know that there was a new book coming soon and he had a new muse. One he'd be more than happy to follow up with if Liam could pull the strings.

"Detective Swan," Captain Mills started, "it appears Mr. Jones has taken a liking to you." Before Emma could interject, the woman raised a hand, "apparently you're to be his new muse and he wants to shadow you. Seeing the work he's done so far, I'm inclined to let him. As well, so long as he's here with us, the Mayor's happy, and you know what that mean's for us if the Mayor is happy."

A low groan left her at that, "for how long?"

"As long as he needs."

"Hello love, looks like we'll be seeing more of each other after all." Emma turned around to find him standing there, leaning against the door way, all mischievous grin and smug satisfaction. Oh she could punch him.


	3. 3—Into the Light

"So, what was he like?"

Emma should have known the moment she came out of her room for breakfast she would be pounced upon by her family, well those who hadn't been with her at the precinct. Both her mother and Henry were looking at her with expectant eyes, leaving Emma to sigh as she mussed up her teenage son's hair, heading to the island counter for food. "Not what I expected."

She knew who they were talking about, a low sigh leaving her as she sat down, having guessed either Henry or her father had informed her mother about the author being a part of their case. Probably both of them. Mary Margaret moved around the counter to where she was prepping the food, Henry sliding in to sit next to her, eyes on her, waiting.

"That's usually how it is with meeting celebrities unfortunately. They never measure up to this image you had of them in your head." Emma wanted to roll her eyes, it was a speech she'd been getting from her father and was prepared to get from her mother but it didn't make it any less annoying. "You put them up on this pedestal—not to mention they have this public image they upkeep—and once you really see them it tears that down."

Sighing inwardly, Emma brushed fingers through her hair, pushing the curls back away from her face. "I know Mom, it was just a shocker. He's played up to be this playboy hot shot, and—" what did she say? That what she saw was a broken shell of a man trying to cling to this image to hide the pain he was going through? Though he frustrated her with his talk about her being an 'open book', how the cockiness seemed to be genuine, his interference with her work. "From what I saw, he keeps that image well maintained, but it's an act. You should have seen his house, it was a mess. What gets me though is that he pulled strings with his brother to shadow me at work because apparently I'm his new muse."

"Brother?" Her mother frowned, both of them now looking at her.

"Oh yeah, the infamous playboy author Killian Jones? Is the one and only baby brother to our dear Mayor, Liam Jones."

"Get out!" Henry gaped.

"Really?" Mary Margaret looked just as taken aback by the news, though she went silent a moment, thoughtful. "This could work to your advantage, him having those kinds of connections, it could give you a boost in your career."

"Mom!"

"What? You do a favour for the mayor by playing nice with his brother and he can pull strings for you." She turned back to her cooking, as if she hadn't just suggested using Emma's current nuisance to further her position in the precinct.

"I want to get far by my own skill not by using someone else's connections. Even so, I risk my position at the same time if he continues to interfere with my investigations. I could have been in serious trouble when he ran off with my case files."

"He what?" Henry shifted closer, wanting to know more.

"Oh yeah, the shit—" Emma, her mother's voice had the blonde rolling her eyes. "Grabbed the files from my desk, hid them among his own papers and made off with them before anyone even noticed they were missing. Played off like he was trying to be apologetic for his behaviour at one crime scene and then he goes and does that."

"Well that could definitely help you, but at the same time hinder you if you can't keep him from getting into anything serious. At the same time the Mayor shouldn't be using his power this way…" Mary Margaret mused, hands on the counter before her as she looked at it, before looking to Emma. "Maybe you can talk with him personally, tell him how much of a risk this is not just for you but for the precinct. Especially if he keeps up this behaviour. He is a civilian after all, and that could not only endanger him but anyone around him."

Emma wanted to point out that she knew this already, after all she was the working police officer, but instead she nodded as she dug into her food. "I'll see if I can do that today, at the very least try to put a leash on Mr. Playboy. Only for all I know he'd like that." There was a roll of eyes as she tapped her fork against the plate before her.

It was then her phone went off with a notification of a new case from Humbert, urging her to shovel food down faster. "Dad ready for work yet?" Her words were muffled by the toast in her mouth before she went to down some juice.

"Emma, and yes, he's already eaten. I take it there's been a case—" she held up a hand before her daughter could answer. "I'll get your father, and I'll make sure Henry gets to school safe."

"Thanks mom." This time she isn't eating, smiling for the older woman before looking back to her phone so she could go over what Humbert sent her. A quick message was shot back that she'd be at the precinct ASAP, before groaning inwardly realizing Jones would be there as well. "How do you deal with small time celebrities who insist on being part of your life?"

"Don't know, Mom." Henry had one his school books out before him, reading it as he waited for MM. "But maybe you should take Grandma's advice and just talk with the Mayor?"

"Thanks, real helpful."

~!~

"I hope you realize the risks I am taking, not just for myself but you and the precinct, in doing this." Liam sighed as he opened the door to his limo to let Killian in, a gesture the younger Jones was sure Liam's people were not used to. Once both of them were in, he looked toward his brother with a stern expression that made Killian want to roll his eyes. "You didn't exactly leave a good impression on them, and Detective Swan may request we not do this."

That had Killian sitting up straight, having not considered that. He thought using his brothers pull meant everything was final, that she couldn't fight it. But with the look Liam was giving him, apparently he'd thought wrong. "But, it's you—"

"And they can likely pull together a feasible argument about how you're a liability and a risk. What am I to do then, Killian? I know you wouldn't intentionally put people at risk, but they have a job to do."

He recoiled at that, huddled near the far door with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked out the window. While he knew Liam hadn't meant for his words to hurt, they still did and Killian was left wondering if he should have stayed home with his alcohol and thoughts. At least there he didn't have to feel like he was just a burden on everyone, including those he was supposed to trust. It still stung that Graham had been there, the very person who had been his best friend since they were boys in Ireland.

While he wanted to point out the benefits of this arrangement, he knew that Liam was well aware of them. He was just looking at the **bigger picture** as he liked to say. All worried about the risks Killian was posing, more concerned about others. Honestly it made him miss the brother who was just as concerned about him as he was about strangers.

During the rest of their ride to the 11th, he was quiet, despite his brothers attempts at trying to engage him. There was a tightness in his chest that wouldn't go away, a need to just climb out of the vehicle at the next light and just go home. At least there the only person who could judge him was his cleaning lady, and occasionally Isabella. He wouldn't be a burden or a bother for anyone.

Once at the precinct, he climbed out of the limo after Liam, following after his brother quietly, like a chastised child (which he certainly felt like one). He ignored how Nolan and Humbert were watching him, sitting down on one of the chairs near the front so his brother could do his thing.

~!~

"Detective Swan?" Emma turned as someone called her name, the file on the latest case in her hands (woman found dead in a washing machine, no leads). The sight of their city's mayor had her sucking in a breath considering her talk with her mother that morning. If he was here then—she looked around him before spotting the familiar face of one Killian Jones who appeared to be sulking.

"Mayor Jones, what can I do for you?" She plastered a smile on her face despite how she was currently imagining wrapping her hands around the younger Jones' neck.

"I wanted to speak with you, privately if I may." Despite how she'd wanted to do the same, Emma couldn't help the feeling of dread at those words. If he was here to do this, then he was likely going to try to convince her why they should let Killian stay, and she knew Mills was going to make her go along with it.

"Sure, sure—" she set the file down on her desk, checking again to make sure Killian was still seated. Shit, he was looking her way, and the sulk was now turned to a smirk. Damn him.

Emma gestured for the Mayor to follow her, resisting the need to turn and stick her tongue out at Killian. Once inside one of the rooms they have for talking with friends and family, she turned to the man, ready to ask what it was he wanted to talk about despite her own burning need to tell him it was a bad idea to have Killian shadowing her.

"Ms Swan, I understand the risks that will be coming with having my brother with you, considering his temperament and penchant for trouble." Understatement. "And I'm willing to shoulder the burden should anything happen, but I want to put in a request for understanding on your part. I'm sure when you came to pick him up you saw the state he was in—is in.

"Killian hasn't been himself for years, and I understand I am asking a lot. That this favour puts not just him at risk but you as well. But for the first time since Milah died, I have my little brother back. He's himself again, and if this is what it takes to get him out of the house for a while, I am willing to risk myself for it."

It took a considerable amount of willpower to not slap a hand over her face and groan, as she was essentially cornered here. Stuck babysitting an alcoholic author who looked to Emma as his current distraction. "And what if he does end up risking himself? How will the precinct be protected if injury happens to himself or someone else because of his actions."

"I will make sure legal papers are drafted up for him so sign so it will be at no fault of the precinct, and I am willing to take full responsibility of my brother. I've made him aware that there are risks, and am hoping he takes that into consideration before jumping into anything. But just in case I will be bringing my lawyer in to meet with the one representing the precinct so should anything happen he cannot sue the precinct."

Well that was a comfort at least, and Emma's shoulders fell, knowing she was just going to have to deal with this. She pushed her hair back, really needing a coffee right about then, or alcohol but she wasn't going to lower herself to Killian's level. "Alright, Mr. Jones, but I will not be taking him into the field until the paperwork is signed and looked over by our lawyers."

"Understood, I don't expect you to. He might get a bit antsy about it, but I will make sure he knows that there will be paperwork to be filled out before he is to be joining you on assignments. And I will remind him of the risks that are present with this, for not just myself but your team and the precinct."

She had to resist the need to outwardly sigh, just nodding as she looked at the wall thoughtfully, arms crossed over her chest. Emma moved to one of the windows, moving the blinds slightly so she could see Killian where he was sitting. At least he hadn't moved from where they left him, a part of her feared he would get into trouble—again. "Please do, I don't want another incident like yesterday where he runs off with the files to solve things himself." Though she hated that he had a point, and had been right in his suspicion.

"I will do just that, Detective. For now, I understand I am keeping you from a case, I will make sure my lawyer keeps Killian here until he is done with the paperwork." With that, Liam left, leaving Emma to lean against the window with a sigh, eyes closed, hating that she was now babysitting a grown man. Once she had herself composed, she left the room as well, moving over to where her father and Humbert were huddled together, either gossiping or actually working.

The moment she heard the name 'Jones' uttered, she knew the answer to that question.

"The case, gentlemen." Canting her hip to the side, she crossed her arms over her chest, giving them both a raised brow as he chewed on the inside of her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the two brothers talking in hushed tones, Killian giving Liam a roll of his eyes as he was made aware of the seriousness of the situation. Both then moved to talk with Captain Mills, likely to talk out the legalities in all of this, which meant for this case at least, she would be free of him. "We can gossip later."

"But—" both interrupted in unison, looking toward Mills' office.

She uncrossed one arm so she could hold it up to silence them. "But nothing, this isn't high school, you can find out what's going on later."

"Well I already have an idea seein' as Liam is here, and talked with you, an' I heard about Killian wanting to take you on as his muse." Graham passed David a look before looking to her.

"Dad," she hissed, breaking her rule about not referring to her as her father at work.

"What, I'm concerned as he could be a liability, and he has already caused trouble."

"And he's worried 'cause of the entire you liking him."

"Both of you. I am a grown woman, and Jones is going to be behind lots of paperwork and legal bindings. I have even told Liam that I don't want him doing anything that could potentially cause trouble for the precinct. I will hold both of them responsible for this if anything happens. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Emma." Both chimed in unison before shifting in their seats to show her the file they had on the dead nanny that had been called in this morning. If they were lucky, Killian would be busy until all of this was over so she could have some peace from him for a day…

~!~

"I understand this request is a lot, and I have spoken with Detective Swan about it, I will be calling my lawyer to come and help draw up the paperwork to be signed. She has also made it clear that Killian will not be on the field for any cases until the paperwork is done and signed." The younger Jones rolled his eyes at that, arm resting on the chair, holding his head up as he stared off at the wall behind the serious looking Captain.

Mills was looking between the two of them, though her attention was primarily on Liam through out the discussion. After all, doing a favour for the Mayor could net benefits for those who were doing said favour, it was why he'd called his brother in the first place. No one could resist.

"I hope you also understand that we don't want any incidents like yesterdays happening again."

"I was right though." Killian finally spoke up, though it was in a muttered tone, not looking their way as he knew they could hear them.

"Right or not, you interfered with an active investigation and stole police files." He wanted to argue that had he not done so, they would have jailed the wrong man, but bit his tongue instead, knowing he would have to swallow his pride for this. They had codes and procedures, though no one would listen to him because he wasn't an officer, he was just a writer in their eyes.

While it was better they thought that, it didn't stop him from being increasingly frustrated with the situation, wanting to yell at them that he had experience with crime.

During the meeting, Liam called his lawyer, asking the man to come to the precinct as soon as he was free. They then moved to another room to meet with the precincts lawyer so he could discuss with Liam's about the paperwork, which Liam left him to. It was all stuff that nearly left him falling asleep in his chair, boring legal talk, signing his name on the line, telling him all the things he couldn't do. Once done he had to almost bribe someone to tell him just where the case Swan was working on was.

He'd been about to leave to go chase her—and the case—down when the three detectives arrived.

Upon noticing him, Swan went tense, moving past him to go speak with the lawyers to make sure everything was set in stone, leaving him to the welcoming company of her father and his 'friend'. "You know, for a fan of my work, she doesn't seem as happy to see me as most others are…"

"How did you—" Graham started before Killian shot him a raised brow.

"Saw a copy of my book on her desk yesterday with a sticker that said 'from the library of Emma Swan'. Not hard to put two and two together."

"So what if she's a fan, I doubt every single fan of yours falls at your feet." The writer had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, turning toward Nolan with an unimpressed look.

"I'm well aware, detective. Just as she seemed to be a fan of even my older works, one would assume she'd be someone who would be pleased to see me, not eager to get out of my presence. That is all."

Before the discussion could get any more heated, Swan returned, standing before the three with a hand on her hip. "Well you could cut the tension here with a chainsaw. I'm not even going to ask, Humbert, brief Jones on the case seeing as he's officially acting as consultant for our cases." She gestured for Nolan to follow her before leaving with out further word, or even looking at Killian.

"Don't take it personally, she's good at the silent treatment."

Killian sighed as he sat down at Humbert's desk, playing with some of the decorations that adorned it. "I can live with a little silent treatment mate. Now tell me what this case is all about and perhaps I can offer some of my own personal insight."


	4. 4—An Open Book

The worst part of shadowing a cop had to be playing by the rules, and Emma was a stickler for following them. Either that or she was deliberately sticking to them to either test him or piss him off. Which if the latter was her goal, she was doing surprisingly well.

"Remind me why I agreed to all that paperwork?" He'd made a few suggestions, and told Emma that some things didn't add up, even offered to break in or break a few bones. Though the suggestion was subtle and earned him laughter hidden behind coughing fit on Graham's part.

"Because if you didn't agree to follow the rules, and go by the law, you wouldn't be allowed to be here. Let alone allowed to know details about active investigations." Graham Humbert, ever the voice of reason, annoying him with bloody logic .

"That may be true, but what use am I when she won't listen to any insight I give, and I can't look into things on my own?"

"I thought you were here because Emma's you're new muse." There again with the logic and sense. Killian wanted to smack him for it, and would if—actually he decided fuck appearances. Rolling up a nearby newspaper he hit Graham on the upper arm, drawing what was likely a yelp from the other man.

"Jones, Humbert." The shout made Killian go still, the pair sharing a look that said they knew they were in trouble. Grimacing, Killian looked in the direction of the voice finding Emma stalking toward them like a lioness approaching her kill.

It was probably a bad thing that he could feel his heart racing in his chest, finding the woman a little too sexy in her righteous fury.

"Whatever it was, I didn't do it." An automatic response, raising both hands, the bracelet he wore on his left wrist falling down to expose the scarring around it. Had Graham noticed, he would have tensed up, knowing just what happened for Killian to gain that scar.

"He was with me the entire time." Graham added.

Emma looked between them, her eyes narrowed with suspicion before placing her hands on her hips. "You're supposed to be working on the case . Jones, if you're just going to be a distraction—"

I'd rather be distracting you. He blinked a few times, unsure where that thought came from before providing a charming smile. "We were just discussing a few things is all, promise, I'm hardly distracting him. After all, couldn't get his attention before I doubt a couple days around will change things."

Probably an unfair dig at the man, Graham was looking at him with what looked to be a pained expression.

"Past grievances aside," she looked between the two of them. "We have an active homicide that needs solving, so I need you two to either prove that you've been working or I'm splitting you up."

"What, is this bloody high school?" Killian gaped, as Graham shook with what could only be assumed was laughter next to him.

"No, but if you're going to be a distraction for one of my detectives, I will treat it as such. So Jones, would you prefer working with my father ?" The man who had already made his distaste for Killian's presence clear. He would likely give Killian a less than professional talking to about what he could and couldn't do around Emma.

Despite the detective being a grown woman.

"I think I'd prefer working with my friend here," the word was meant to sting, and he was sure Humbert caught that as he heard a sigh next to him. "Unless you wouldn't mind me following you a bit, seeing as you are the reason I am here."

That appeared to get under her skin, making her eye twitch a little as she shifted her weight, arms shifting to cross over her chest. "Any leads, boys ?"

Oh yes, he'd gotten under her skin. "All alibi's check out." He spoke up before Humbert could get a chance to. "I'm guessing we should talk with her employers again as—in my opinion—something doesn't check out."

She looked from one man to the other, though spared Killian what appeared to be a calculating look. "Humbert?"

"What he said. All the alibi's check out and I agree we should see if there's anything that her employers are keeping from us. Maybe even see if there's others in the apartment complex who might have leads, talk with friends…"

"If y'can get her cellphone records, find out who she talks to the most. There may be someone who knows more than they think." Killian provided, Graham nodding sagely in agreement.

"I can dig up some phone records and see what I can find, if you want to take Killian with you to the apartments." Killian looked to Emma expectantly as Graham spoke. "He is here for you after all, and you did say you wanted me to stop being distracted, right?" At that, Killian shot his 'friend' a narrow eyed look, almost scowling at that.

The way he saw it, he had a right to throw his old friend under the bus, not the other way around.

"Fine, I'll babysit Jones—" there was a sound of protest at the implication that he needed babysitting . But Emma raised her hand, "but I expect him to be on his best behaviour." At that, she looked Killian's way, eyes narrowing in warning. He merely scowled in return, crossing his arms over his chest, resisting the need to huff indignantly.

"I am right here you know?"

"I'm very aware." She graced him with a tight lipped smile, before walking off, likely fully expecting Killian to follow. He did, after smacking Graham hard in the upper arm, ignoring the sound of complaint coming from his dear 'friend'.

Pulling on his coat, he caught up to Emma as she was leaving the station, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walked alongside her. The silence was almost overwhelming to Killian, used to noise and constant chatter, whether he liked it or not. He opened his mouth as they approached her cruiser, but she quickly shut him down with a raised hand. Unlocking the doors, she slipped in, speaking up once he'd joined her.

"Let me make a few things very clear, Jones, you are here to observe . Any interference and I will not hesitate to bring you up on charges, as is my right. Do I make myself clear?"

"Will there be handcuffs involved? Because if so, I feel I should let you know my safeword is Victoria."

"Jones."

"Aye, aye. Stay out of trouble, keep quiet, hands to m'self and all that. I know the drill. Though I feel I may be able to offer some insight into your cases if you let me." Unfortunately, he couldn't provide just why he'd be a valuable asset.

"Unless you have a law degree, or a degree in criminology that I don't know about, I doubt it."

"I may not have either of those, but there are things about me you don't know about love. Things which could make me useful." He looked out the window, having a feeling she was looking his way with a curious eye. "Let's just say there's more than one way to learn how a criminal works."

That was the most he could tell her, as anything more would be dredging up a past his brother had helped him bury. Killian didn't even know if he could trust her with that kind of information. He just wanted to be of more use than he was at the moment, which was no use at all.

"You going to tell me what these other ways are?" Oh he could hear judgement in her tone, he had a feeling if he looked her way it would be clear on her face. Hell, he was betting she'd be looking up his criminal history once this case was closed.

Unfortunately for her the most she would find would be a couple arrests for misconduct while drunk. They kept his past well buried.

"Nah, I think I'll let you stew on that, the great mystery of Killian Jones." A dry laugh followed his words, having a feeling she'd 'solved' that mystery and settled on her solution. That he was a washed up drunk who destroyed his own career, hellbent on destroying someone else's to become relevant again.

"Not much of a mystery, from what I've seen." Predictable, just as he thought she'd 'solved' it on her own. Let her, he couldn't be bothered to care, Killian was used to people sticking him in a box and making assumptions about him. They had their preset notions about him and Killian wasn't about to tell them any different. The opinions of strangers meant nothing to him, what mattered was that he felt betrayed by those he had considered family.

"Keep telling yourself that love. I'm not as much of an open book as you think I am." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing she was looking his way with narrowed eyes. "Unlike you, though it doesn't help that your story is well known, does it? The girl who went missing for over a decade, miraculously reunited with her loving parents? Quite the media sensation you were. Your mother got lots of screen time on talk shows, your family received gifts I bet. The mystery of the missing Nolan girl solved."

That earned a scowl from her, the detective opening mouth, likely to protest. "But before you judge me as someone who's just as much of an open book, let me ask you this; what do you know about me? Aside from my being an immigrant from Ireland, an award winning author, alcoholic, and widower?"

She was silent then, having given up on any attempts of trying to disprove him. The tension was stifling, and he wanted to just jump out of the car, slam the door, and walk off. Unfortunately he was stuck with her for the time being, part of him wishing he'd stayed with Humbert, or chosen to go with her father. Though Detective Nolan would be just as hostile, at least that he could handle.

Killian was no stranger to hostility.

The same kind of hostility he showed her as he almost slammed the door closed on her cruiser, exiting the vehicle. He dutifully followed behind her, already second guessing his decision to shadow her. Perhaps he was better at home drowning in his sorrows, at least there the only person who would openly judge him was the woman who cleaned his home.

~!~

" That arrogant son of a —"

Emma had to reign in her anger as she curled her hands into fists, standing inside the break at the precinct. She'd never met someone so— infuriating to put it lightly. Luckily for her both Humbert and Nolan were there upon her arrival, leaving her someone to vent to. "Gives me some speech about how I'm an open book, and he can read me, while saying that he is not and how I don't know anything ."

"He's right."

That stopped her in her tirade, looking toward Humbert who wasn't meeting her eye. He was sitting back against the counter, sipping from a coffee cup that said 'kiss me I'm irish'. "You've got to be kidding me, you too?"

"You forget that I knew him . I know what life was like for Killian." He put a hand up as she opened her mouth to tell him to let her in on this big mystery. "But I'll leave it to him to share. Wouldn't be fair of me to open the book and spoil its contents for you when you haven't even started it."

"You're assuming it's worth reading." Heels clicked on the floor as she approached the coffee machine, pulling out her own cup. Really, she needed something stronger, but she had to remind herself not to stoop to Killian's level. "A washed up alcoholic author, I think I'll pass."

"Let me guess, you made that assumption about him, and he snapped?" Emma looked over her shoulder at him with narrowed eyes, Nolan watching them with interest. "And he told you everything he knew about you, and how you're more of an open book. It's a self defence mechanism, Emma. Even if you didn't say what you were thinking, he's had people make these very assumptions about him in the past. He snapped to protect himself from getting hurt."

"The same way you snapped at your mother and I when we got you back." Nolan murmured, causing Emma to tense up at the insinuation that she might have something in common with the man.

Setting her cup down, she gripped the counter, staring at the window. "He told me about how I was a media sensation, she lost daughter returned to her parents… I'd gotten used to my life being public but, then he had to go and rub it in my face."

"You did the same, Emma. Told Mary and everything you knew about us, every assumption you had, and then told us how we knew nothing about you."

She remembered that day too clearly, Mary had cried hard and Emma didn't realize why until David had told her that they knew that too well. That their daughter was a stranger to them, and they'd lost out on over a decade of raising her.

"So consider this; if you snapped at your own parents for a past they didn't know about, just what may Killian be hiding?"

"You know what he's hiding Graham. How is he able to read signs of abuse and cheating so well?"

"I think you should ask him that."

Emma tapped a finger on the counter, staring at the window with narrowed eyes, thinking on the day's events. Killian had been silently watching the couple from a short distance behind her, before moving up behind Emma and whispering that she should speak with the wife alone. The detective hadn't understood why until she started to see the signs.

How the husband grasped his wife's hand tight, seemed to be leading the conversation, refused to let her be alone with Emma.

Then there were the barely hidden bruises along the woman's neck…

Turned out he had been having an affair with the nanny, and killed her when she found out about him beating the wife. The man was already in custody, and brought in as Emma made a move for the break room to rant about Killian. But if it hadn't been for him noticing that little detail.

"...It was his father wasn't it?"

Graham raised his hands, "as I said, not for me to tell you. Best you ask him, but he might not be so quick to tell you. Though, that may be something you can get out of Liam if you get him to warm up t' you."

A sigh escaped her, all the tension and anger having left as she looked at her coffee, wondering just what he'd been through to make him this way. Now she was bent on seeing if he was just as much an open book as she was.

The reviews on this book weren't stellar, but as they said, don't judge a book by it's cover.


End file.
